


make this place your home

by taizi



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Babybones, Gen, Pre-Canon, how the skelebros came to snowdin, origin fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-07
Updated: 2017-10-07
Packaged: 2019-01-10 09:28:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12296295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taizi/pseuds/taizi
Summary: A little skeleton arrives in Snowdin.





	make this place your home

In a tiny corner of the Underground like Snowdin, rumors fly fast.

“Have you seen them yet?” one of Grillby’s patrons asks another, not seeming to mind the bartender wiping the counter down in obvious earshot. “The new monsters?”  

“They been here for about a week now, and I ain’t seen ‘em once. But I hear they’re living out of Lottie’s place?”

“Just until they can get their house fixed up, apparently. It’s that big empty one down the street. That’s all Lottie'll tell me, she all but kicked me out after that.”

Grillby is glad to hear it. Newcomers are very rare to this quiet town, and the last thing they need is to chase their prospective neighbors away with a curious mob.

 

* * *

 

The bell above the door announces a customer, and it’s odd how the noonday conversation falls to a hush almost immediately after. Grillby turns around to see what manner of monster has arrived -- the last time the room fell silent like this was when the Guard Dogs showed up with mud frozen to their fur and tracked a heinous mess all the way across the floor to their table at the far side of the bar -- and instead of the disaster he’s bracing himself for, Grillby is greeted by a new face.

A short skeleton in a baggy coat much too big for his bones grins from a few steps inside the door, penlight pupils glowing in round eyes.

“uh,” he says, seeming to shrink under the weight of the room. Whatever his age may be, his voice is young. “hi? lottie told me i could -- order lunch here? but if you’re busy i can make like a shepherd, no prob.”

“......You’re more than welcome,” Grillby tells him firmly, his flames crackling a little higher in reproach of his patrons’ rudeness. Almost as one, they all return to their drinks and food and conversation picks back up.

The skeleton’s grin seems to be a perpetual one rather than a voluntary gesture, and his nerves are apparent in the dart of his eyes. But when Grillby beckons him in, he only hesitates another moment before following the flame further inside.

Climbing onto a barstool, several seats away from Red Bird, the small monster flips through the menu Grillby passes him and says, “um -- a cup of soup. and a sandwich. to go.”

It doesn’t escape Grillby’s notice that those are the cheapest items on the menu, and he feels the first sharp needles of concern for the child. But it isn’t his place to comment -- only to nod understanding and accept the gold for the purchase.

He can’t help pulling a clean mug out from under the counter, though, before heading back to the kitchen.  

“......Your name?”

His manner of speech is somewhat clipped, and he has unintentionally offended monsters this way, but the stranger doesn’t seem to either notice or mind. He looks up from the menu and says, “sans skeleton,” so firmly that Grillby has to wonder if it’s at least in part a lie. “and you’re probably grillby, right? this is a nice place.”

Another nod, and then Grillby can’t help asking, “......’Make like a shepherd’?”

Sans blinks once, and then his wide grin is somehow wider as he says, “and _get the flock_ outta here?”

Red Bird and Ugly Fish both guffaw from their place at the end of the bar where they were not-so-subtly eavesdropping, and Grillby feels a faint rush of surprised amusement himself.

“Wait, wait, kid,” Red Bird says, waving him over, “listen here, I’ve got a good one.”

Sans brightens at the prospect of a bad joke, and with two of his regulars having warmed to the boy Grillby decides it’s safe now to leave Sans for as long as it will take to prepare his order in the kitchen. He deposits a mug of rich hot chocolate in front of him before he goes. Even without the added warmth of booze his older patrons order it with, it will still be enough to shake the chill from the skeleton’s bones.

“......Drinks are free while you wait,” he lies kindly.

 

* * *

 

With the appearance of one of the two mystery monsters, a small and friendly skeleton where no one has ever seen a skeleton before, Sans is all anyone can talk about.

He stops in at Grillby’s regularly, and the restaurant is always packed with nosy neighbors eager to get a look at the secretive newcomer. Only the lapine sisters refrain -- thought that’s possibly largely in part because they’ve seen more of Sans than the rest of Snowdin at this point, since he and his companion are living at Lottie’s inn.

Sans is a little skittish at first, but he relaxes -- slowly -- when it’s clear no one means him any harm with their unending questions. He looks as though he’d really rather not be the center of attention, but accepts that he’s almost single-handedly fueling the rumor mill just by being a new face in a small town with good humor.

“That big house is all yours, huh? That’s a lot of room for one little monster!” comes the leading question from Big Mouth, as he pointedly angles for more information about Sans' as of yet still unseen companion.

Grillby gives him a hard stare but Sans only shrugs, presumably unbothered.

“yeah, it’s a waste of space for me, all right,” he agrees, which explains precisely nothing. “needs a lot of work, too. gotta rattle my bones if i want it livable any time soon.”

“Are you sure you don’t need any help, Sansy?” Bun asks, mostly sober at this point. “You’re such a little guy, I don’t know if you should be re-shingling a roof by yourself?”

“i’m older than i look. skeletons age fast,” Sans says stoutly, with that same practiced, unwavering tone he introduced himself to Grillby with nearly a week ago, one that makes Grillby think he’s probably not telling the truth.

“What if you fall? You could -- you could break your spine or something!”

The boy grins, in a way that Grillby has come to associate with --

“heh, my spine was always _holdin’ me back_ , anyway.”

From the other side of the room, Red Bird chokes on his drink. Bun groans, but she's smiling as she does, and Sans has successfully redirected the conversation. He never stays long -- just long enough to drink whatever Grillby puts in front of him while he waits on his order -- but he’s become a familiar sight in the warm restaurant regardless.

It’s less curiosity now and more honest welcome that keeps heads turning when Sans walks into the bar, and Grillby is happy to see it.

 

* * *

 

Lottie’s sister runs the shop on the Western-most side of town, and she comes into Grillby’s one evening with a formidable look on her face.

“......Ruby,” he greets her as she approaches the bar, flickering in confusion, “is everything alright?”

“That boy,” she says fiercely, “is a menace.”

It takes Grillby a moment to parse what she might mean. And then another moment to reconcile his surprise. “......Sans?”

“Yes, _Sans_. I’ve had it about up to _here_ with him.” She indicates a spot well above her stout ears, and adds, “Out working on that old house till all hours, and in this weather! He feeds me all these lines like “skeletons don’t _feel_ cold,” “skeletons don’t _need_ to eat,” and a thousand cheap jokes aside -- but I _know_ he brings food home for his brother even if he isn’t eating anything himself, and he’s not taken that blue _tent_ off since I’ve met him.”

“......I see.” The sharp pricks of concern return full force and he sets his cleaning rag down slowly. “......I did not know the food he ordered wasn’t for himself, but perhaps I should have guessed.”

Monster food is more than a matter of staving off hunger, it heals and nurtures the soul. Grillby takes great pride and great care in feeding his neighbors only the best he has to offer. He’s sick to think of a child going without, right under their noses.

As if sensing his thoughts, Ruby softens. “No, there’s no way you could have known. Lottie and I did all we could to protect those boys’ privacy. Now, though -- now that everyone has met him, now that he’s a familiar face -- I was hoping we could do something to help the kitten out. He’s a part of a community now, whether or not he knows what that means.”

Grillby nods. “......A good idea.”

Perhaps he had been hoping that, whoever Sans’ companion was, they were someone older -- a guardian, perhaps, who was looking after the little skeleton. And now it seems as though Sans is the one doing the looking after. Grillby doesn't sleep well that night. 

 

* * *

 

The next time Sans comes into the restaurant, and climbs into his usual seat at the bar with a friendly smile, Grillby sees the tired shadows on his face for what they are.

He sets a basket of hot fries in front of the boy and says, “......Had extra.”

Sans doesn’t seem to know what to do with the food. He says, “heh, that’s okay, this stuff’ll go right _through_ me,” but Grillby doesn’t comment or take the basket away as he heads back into the kitchen to prepare food for Sans’ brother.

When he returns, Sans is working his way through the fries despite himself. His glowing penlight pupils are a little brighter, a little wider, and already some of the deep lines have peeled away from his young face.

Grillby sets the soup and sandwich in front of him, wrapped up in its usual paper bag, and says, “......For your _broth_ er.”

The skeleton perks up even more, delighted. Grillby was worried he might react badly to the bartender knowing about his secret sibling, tucked away from prying eyes in their room at the cozy inn, but those worries seem to have been unfounded.

Sans even says, “ _stew_ bad you haven’t met him yet. he's the best.” He picks up the bag and scoots off the stool and then says, without the armor of a bad joke to hide behind, “and, uh. thanks.”

Grillby smiles.

 

* * *

 

It only takes a few gentle nudges from the lapine sisters and Grillby himself for the rest of the town to realize that while Sans won’t _ask_ for help, and even doesn’t seem to _need_ it, he could definitely _use_ it. He’s only one little monster, after all.

His neighbors show up in twos and threes the next time he’s out working on the house. Even the Guard Dogs, in their limited time off, arrive that morning to offer a hand. Sans shrinks a little bit, the way he did the day he first stepped into Grillby’s restaurant, but Bun is quick to throw a friendly arm around his bony shoulders, and Red Bird draws him into a conversation about his own home improvement projects, and that gives everyone else time to slip past and pick up work before Sans can figure out how to politely send the entire town away. 

Grillby brings over a large crockpot of soup, setting it up in the bare kitchen and handing out hot mugs to anyone who comes by. Ruby joins him, laden with sweets and pastries, and the renovation becomes a community-wide affair, with only Lottie staying in to watch over Sans' mysterious brother. 

With so many monsters cooperating on the task where only one had been soldiering away at it before, the progress leaps and bounds. Sans, in his trademark over-sized jacket, looks less burdened than he ever has, and even gives his neighbors a glimpse of an interesting blue magic Grillby has never seen before. He uses it to levitate hammers and nails and sanders, and at one point, when little Cinnamon wanders away from his big sister’s supervision and into the path of a falling ladder, Sans uses his blue magic to snatch the baby bunny out of harm’s way.

He beams at everyone’s praise, and _laughs_ when Ruby kisses the top of his skull, and runs eagerly back to the Snowed Inn with the other lapine children at the end of the day. Finally acting his age, Grillby thinks, and shares a relieved smile with rest of the monsters who stand back to watch him go.

 

* * *

 

The house is ready to be moved into in a few more days, and Sans is decorating the outside with the multicolored string lights that Gift Bear gave him when the Slime family arrives with “just a few things, we had this old sofa out in the garage that we don't need, and some end tables,” and Sans brightens.

“thank you!”

At the Slimes' success, several other monsters come by and let themselves into the house with things like bedding and linens and small appliances, while Grillby himself brings the small kitchen to life.

Having sat dark and empty on the end of the street for so long, it's wonderful to see the Skeleton house warmly lit from both the inside and out. The colorful string lights glimmer merrily as Sans steps back to take it all in, and the small crowd gathered to watch the final piece fall into place all give a cheer. Sans smiles automatically, a real smile on top of his perpetual grin.

"i could never have done it by myself," the child says to Grillby, to Ruby, to the rest of their neighbors, "i'm -- i'm really -- "

"Oh, you would have made it happen somehow with or without or help," Bun says good-naturedly. "You're a _stubborn_ little thing, Sansy."

"If anything, we should be thanking you for letting us butt in," Red Bird adds. "Gave me something to do with my boring afternoons!"

Sans wipes his wet eyes with a long sleeve, muttering something like "no _skin_ off my back, heh," and Ruby rubs a fond paw over his smooth skull. 

"......Go get your brother," Grillby says, not unkindly. "......He's probably ready to come home." 

By unspoken agreement, the crowd disperses when Sans leaves. With as jumpy as Sans was when he first arrived, there's no reason to overwhelm his brother with a new home and too many new faces on top if it. As eager as they all are to meet the second skeleton, they're more eager to keep them both.

 

* * *

 

After a night to settle in and show him the house, Sans brings his brother to Grillby's the next day.

His brother is very small, shorter even than Sans, though his bones are built on tall, lanky lines. Grillby thinks he'll probably shoot up as he grows. He holds Sans' hand as they make their way inside, crunching through the snow on the stoop with a look of wonder on his face, and Grillby feels himself warm to the child the moment he catches sight of him. 

The patrons are tittering and smiling behind their hands, but no one shouts or swarms forward, or does anything else that might spook the boys as Sans leads his brother up to the bar.

"this is papyrus," Sans says, beaming with pride. Papyrus promptly shuffles behind his brother without letting go of his hand and hides his face in the fur-lined hood of Sans' jacket. "heh. he's a little shy."

"...... _Snow_ problem," Grillby replies. Sans actually laughs, and Papyrus peeks over his shoulder with wide eyes. "......Nice to meet you."

Papyrus lifts his free hand, beginning to speak in a series of gestures Grillby doesn't recognize, before he seems to remember himself. He flushes and snatches his hand back against his chest, but when Sans only hums patiently, and Grillby waits without any apparent ire, Papyrus rallies his courage and tries again.

"UM," he says in a soft, scratchy voice, "THE SOUP WAS GOOD! AND SO WAS THE S... S..." A brief struggle to get the word out ends in, "S- SANDWICHES!"

He looks up at Sans, pleased with himself, and Sans bumps their foreheads together affectionately with a soft knock of bone. But his glowing pupils shrink as he darts a sharp look up at Grillby, his grip on his little brother tightening, and Grillby has to wonder how many monsters have been unkind to Papyrus so far, for Sans to feel he has to search a friendly, familiar face for any sign of condescension.

Too many, Grillby thinks. Even one instance of cruelty would be too many. 

"......I'm glad you liked them," he says gently, crackling a bit with the force of his care for these children. "......Are you hungry, little one?"

"YES!" 

"......There is a whole menu aside from the soup and sandwiches. Why don't you pick something out for dinner? My treat."

"SANS TOO?"

Before Sans can so much as blink, Grillby nods. "......Of course. Sans, too."

Papyrus brightens. "YOU'RE NICE!" And where Sans brought a spark of humor to the quiet, snowy town, Papyrus brings color. He hops in place once, and tugs on Sans' hands, and says, "EVERYONE IS... VERY NICE HERE! OUR HOUSE IS N- NICE, AND THE FOOD IS NICE, AND MS LOTTIE AND MS RUBY IS NICE, AND THE S...  _SNOW_ IS NICE! BROTHER," he adds hopefully, "CAN WE STAY?"

The whole bar might be holding its breath. Grillby prepares their hot chocolate without giving any sign that he's listening raptly, but he doesn't miss it when Sans sighs.

"sure, pap," Sans says, every bit as relieved as a weary traveler shedding his heavy baggage and stumbling home. "sounds good to me."

 

* * *

 

"SANS! COME OUT, YOU LAZYBONES! I'LL FIND YOU SOONER OR LATER!" 

"he totally will," Sans says, lounging at the bar while his brother's voice carries past the restaurant window. "my bro's the best at finding stuff." 

"We know, Sans," Dogaressa says kindly, tactfully not pointing out that Papyrus could simply start his search at Grillby's in the first place and be done with it. "But why don't you make it easy for him today? He's probably nervous about the sentry tryouts."

"......Make like a shepherd," Grillby adds, and Sans dissolves into laughter. 

As if summoned by the sound, Papyrus appears at the front door -- swinging it open grandly, and bringing a dusting of snow and a winter chill inside along with a boisterous, " _AHA!_ SOMETHING TOLD ME YOU WOULD BE HERE! MY INSTINCTS ARE FINELY-HONED! RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!"

It's been eight years since the uneventful day the Skeleton brothers arrived in sleepy, snowy Snowdin, and by now they're so much a part of this town that Grillby can't imagine going a single day without evidence of their clever puzzles and childish japes and blue magic. He can't imagine the colorful house on the end of the street sitting empty and dark.

"grillby, listen to this one," Sans says as Papyrus stomps up behind him and, apparent temper notwithstanding, folds his arms on top of Sans' head and props his chin there. "so a skeleton walks into a bar and asks the bartender 'have you seen my brother?' bartender looks at him and says 'i dunno, what's he look like?'"

"UGH, _SANS_."

"you're smiling."

Everyone else is smiling, too.

 


End file.
